


Moving Forward

by at3mporarymatt3r



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Dates, Fitzsimmons Secret Valentine, fluff with a lil angst thrown in for good measure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:23:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/at3mporarymatt3r/pseuds/at3mporarymatt3r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three months of dancing around one another, Jemma finally gets up the courage to ask Fitz out on a date. But after all that’s happened, she finds herself wondering where they stand how they can move past all that’s happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Traviosita9124](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/gifts).



Jemma can still feel her heart slamming unevenly in her chest, pulsing down to her fingertips as she exits the lab. Two lab techs walking in the opposite direction give her a strange look as she passes them, but she keeps going and doesn't stop until she rounds a corner and leans against the wall, squeezing her eyes shut and inhaling sharply through her nose. It was done. It was happening. No turning back now. 

* * *

 In hindsight, she wishes she had given what she had to say a bit more thought. Rehearsed some sort of speech, perhaps. Then, maybe what she had said to him might have come out more clearly. She had walked through the lab, trying not to think too hard about what she was about to do, dimly noting the annoyingly loud squeak that her sneakers made against the linoleum as she walked. Before she knew it Fitz was right there in front of her, sitting at a computer, leaning forward on his elbows and frowning slightly at the screen in front of him. He looked up at her as she approached, his eyebrows raising slightly.

Over the past three months, things hadn't been awkward between them. Not exactly. They were talking. That was something, at least. What conversation there was between them was pleasant. But with every word that was exchanged between them, Jemma was constantly aware of the  _thing_ that they were edging around and evading. The  _thing_. That was what Will had become to them. A  _thing_ that was to be avoided at all costs, never spoken of, as if what had happened to Fitz, to  _him_ , on the blue planet had never happened at all.

"Jemma," Fitz cleared his throat, eyebrows still raised. "Did you need something? What's-"

"Dinner," Jemma blurted out suddenly, surprising them both.

" . . . Excuse me?" Fitz's eyebrows were now well on their way to merging with his hairline. Jemma closed her eyes, slowly drawing in a breath. 

 _Nowhere to move but forward, now_.

"Dinner," she said more levelly, opening her eyes and meeting Fitz's blue ones head-on, "would you like to get dinner? Tonight? With me, I mean."

For a second, neither of them moved or said anything. It was completely quiet in the lab. Finally, FItz broke the silence.

"When you say dinner, you mean-"

"-Somewhere nice, yes." Jemma looked up at him, waiting.  _This is it,_ she thought,  _If he says no I leave him alone, never bring it up again, pretend it never happened and things haven't changed between us if that's what he wants. If he says yes, though . . ._

She hadn't thought that far ahead, if she was being perfectly honest with herself.

"Are you sure?" His hands were shaking slightly where they had come to rest on his lap. "Are you sure that's a good idea after . . . after all that's happened?" Jemma nodded.

"Yes, Fitz. I'm very sure." Then, for a brief moment, she faltered. "Unless you don't want to, or think it's a bad idea, in which case I completely understand," she stammered as she found herself trying to give him a way out.

_Last chance to say no, Fitz._

"I . . . no, that's not . . . no, I do." He exhaled slowly. "Yeah, all right. Okay."

A slightly stunned silence hung between them for a few seconds before Jemma found herself quickly saying, "Splendid. I'll start looking through restaurant options and get back to you when I find something." It was just like the last time, when he'd been the one to ask her out. Only now there was no space rock to come between them. No months of trying to find their way back to a promise that seemed to have been made an eternity ago. No Will. This time, it was happening.  _Really_ happening. Jemma only dimly remembered turning on her heel and leaving Fitz, who looked vaguely like someone had just pumped him through with I.C.E.R. bullets.

* * *

 She had done it. Now what, though? Sitting in the back of one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s black, all-purpose vans (on loan for the night thanks to Daisy, who had all but blackmailed Coulson into signing his seal of approval once Jemma had told her what was going on) just a few feet away from Fitz, Jemma stares at her hands, which are clasped together on her lap, fingers restlessly twisting and untwisting, and wills herself to say something.  _Anything_. Once, just once, she quickly glances at Fitz, to see how he's holding up. He's sitting ramrod straight, staring directly ahead, arms folded. The seat under them vibrates as he bounces one leg, balancing on the ball of his foot. Everything about his body language is tense, uncomfortable, on edge. He's shaved, Jemma notices. He's wearing a nice jacket over a blue button-down, and Jemma can smell the faintly spicy aroma of cologne on him. It's nice, but different. When did he start dressing differently? Where had the cardigans and print button-downs gone? So much has changed, she thought sadly.

She starts to say the first thing that comes to her mind, in an attempt to break the silence, but he apparently has the same idea, and they stumble over one another's words.

"You look-"

"Where-"

They both stop at once.

"You go ahead," Fitz says automatically.

"No please, you go," Jemma insists, tangling her fingers even more tightly together.

"Ehm, okay. I was gonna ask, where'd you end up deciding on?"

"Oh! That Italian place downtown, the one across from-"

"Right, of course."

"Hope that's okay."

"No, that's fine."

Silence hovers between them like a moth.  _Well that went splendidly,_ Jemma thinks ruefully.

"What were you going to say?" Fitz asks after a few seconds.

"Oh, um, I was going to say that you . . . look nice," Jemma says, looking back down and feeling her face flood with heat. She glances up, and sees that he's blushing every bit as much as she probably is right now. Slowly he looks up, meeting her gaze. His eyes are conflicted, his jaw working silently.

"Jemma," he finally says, "Are you absolutely sure you want to go through with this? Because if you're not, I completely understand." He's giving her an out, just as much as she was giving him one earlier. But why? If he hadn't wanted to go to dinner, he'd had every opportunity to tell her so. Was he having second thoughts? Jemma shakes her head slightly, trying to clear out the worry that threatens to eat her alive if she lets it. Deliberately, she stills her hands in her lap and tries to appear as in control as possible.

"Yes," she says, meeting his eyes firmly, "I'm sure." Hesitantly, unsure of how Fitz will react, she slowly reaches for him, gently covering his hand with hers. She feels him jump slightly at his touch, but he doesn't move his hand away. A good sign. The tension sitting heavily in her chest lessens ever so slightly. She pushes her worries aside and continues.

"I want this, Fitz. Do you?"

He flips his hand upwards at her words, slowly curling his fingers around her outstretched hand and squeezing it gently. A warm tingle goes up Jemma's arm as she stares down at their entwined hands.

"I do," Fitz says, a rough edge entering his voice, "Most definitely." 

* * *

 They walk through the restaurant together, winding their way through the crowded tables and following the hostess through a side door and into a small outdoor patio with a few evenly spaced out tables, fairy lights woven through the high fence enclosing the area on three sides. Jemma smiles thankfully as Fitz immediately goes to pull out a chair for her. They picked a good evening to go out, pleasantly cool without being too chilly. The small candle in the middle of the table, she notices, reflects Fitz's eyes quite nicely.

His eyes flicker up, meeting hers, and she immediately busies herself with looking at her menu, not really reading what's there. Her boldness in the car has all but dissipated, and she feels awkward and self-conscious once again. There are, thankfully, far less things to choose from on the menu than the last time they were at a restaurant together. When the waiter comes to their table, she orders the first thing that she sees without really registering what she's saying.

"Nice restaurant," Fitz says, after the waiter's been gone for about a minute or so.

"Yeah," she says, smiling.

"It's, ehm, different than the place we went to last time. I like the outdoor space."

Jemma raises an eyebrow. "I thought you hated eating outdoors. What was it you said to me that one time I tried to get you to go on that Academy Visiting Weekend picnic with me and my parents?"

"That was different and you know it," Fitz protests, "I don't hate-"

"Ah, yes. 'Do you realize how unsanitary the ground is, Jemma?  _Do you?_ What if a bird poos on me?'"

"Hey, that is no laughing matter, okay?" Fitz protests, the ends of his mouth curving up slightly in spite of himself.

"You were practically convinced the birds had it in for you," Jemma laughs.

"They  _do_ have it in for me, I'm telling you," he shoots back, grinning in earnest now.

From there, the conversation flows easily. Somewhere in the middle of dinner, Jemma realizes how comfortable things are between them at this moment in time. It's almost like things are back to normal. Almost. This is how things  _could_ be between them, and she likes it. Before she knows it their plates are gone and the waiter is back with the check, which Fitz instantly reaches for.

"Fitz, that's really not necessary."

"No it's fine, I want to-"

" _Fitz_ ," Jemma cuts in firmly, "I've got this. Really."

There's an awkward silence, and then Fitz eventually says, "Split it?"

"Deal."

As they stand outside the restaurant waiting for the van to pick them up and take them back to the base Jemma reaches for Fitz's hand again like she did on the way to the restaurant, gently brushing her fingers against his. And just like last time, he visibly tenses up for a second, not moving at first but then slowly threading his fingers through hers, saying nothing. He's silent for the next five minutes until the van finally shows up.

The entire ride home is almost exactly like the ride to the restaurant. Except now, neither of them says anything. Jemma feels her hands reflexively coming together again, fingers twisting nervously.

Dinner had been nice. _It had been_ really _nice,_ she thinks to herself. They had fallen into a comfortable back and forth, as easy as breathing. But there was still a lingering awkwardness. He was still holding back, and she couldn't quite put her finger on why. Conversation had been easy enough at the restaurant. So why is it still a problem now?

Because they hadn't talked, she realizes. Not really. Chatting about harmless, easy topics was simple enough. But there was still something between them, an unresolved, unacknowledged dark spot of tension that seemed to grow the more they avoided it. They're still dancing around one another, even now, not talking about what they need to talk about now more than ever.

 _Tonight_ _,_ she suddenly decides as she continues to stare at her hands,  _I have to do it tonight._ If she doesn't do it tonight, she knows that she never will. But she can't do it here. Not now. Not in the car. Somewhere else, somewhere more private would be better. But definitely tonight. Her pulse quickens at the thought. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees that Fitz's leg has started bouncing furiously once again.

* * *

 She doesn't try to take his hand again as they leave the car, crossing the enclosed parking lot together. It's grown chillier outside and Jemma shivers at the slight breeze, crossing her arms. As she begins to move a little faster towards the building entrance, she sees Fitz in her periphery matching his longer stride with her shorter, quicker one. They're walking side by side and suddenly, maybe because she's nervous about what she's about to do, she's overly aware of how close he is to her, and has absolutely no idea how to handle it or how to act around him. For a brief moment, glancing at him by her side, she wants nothing more than to stop in her tracks, turn and embrace him right there on the spot. To wrap her arms around him like she did when he came back from Maveth, holding on for dear life, burying her face into the crook of his neck, and crying until she can't cry anymore. To whisper everything that she never had the courage to tell him before into his ear in one long go. But she keeps walking, always careful to match her pace to his, and they remain achingly silent as they enter the main building together, which is lit glaringly at all hours of the day and night. Their footsteps echo loudly through the hallways and reverberate back disjointedly. Before she knows it, Jemma realizes with a start that they're only a few steps away from Fitz's room.

 _This is it,_ she decides, her heart starting to thud hard and fast,  _I'll ask him if we can talk, we'll go into his room, and then I'll tell him. It's an optimal situation, really._ But even as she maps out the logistics of this scenario in her head, her heartbeat speeds up even more. Her palms are clammy with sweat, and she finds herself trying in spite of herself to find some way to prolong this moment. She's waited so long to find a way to tell him. And now that she's about to, she still doesn't know how to even  _begin_ talking about it.

They come to a stop outside Fitz's door, and Jemma breathes in slowly, bracing herself. Her heart is in her throat now, and she wonders how she's even going to get the words out. Still, she's got to try. She owes them both that much. As she opens her mouth to speak, Fitz quickly turns on his heel, blue eyes burning into hers with an intensity that nearly takes her breath away.

"Jemma," he says, then pauses abruptly. He's trembling, Jemma notices suddenly. All that time they were together, the car ride, dinner, walking back together, she was so acutely aware of him beside her but she never saw. She was so wrapped up in her own anxieties and worries that she didn't notice.

He's absolutely terrified. His hands are shaking, almost as badly as they were in the months after the accident.

He breathes in heavily, then continues. "Jemma, tonight was . . . it was really nice."

"Yes, I agree."

He holds up a shaking hand. "But there's something I need to say." Jemma frowns, but nods. This is not turning out how she expected.

"I don't . . . I can't . . . " he stops again, clearly struggling to put what he's trying to say into words, and Jemma's heart gives a painful lurch. He recollects himself, hands slowly stilling. "I don't know how to make this work . . . I don't know how  _we_ can work after . . . after everything that's happened," he finally gets out. His face contorts around the last part of that sentence, like it physically pains him to get it out.

 _"What?"_ Jemma feels as if the wind's been knocked right out of her. She stares at Fitz, a sick, hollow feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. Of course, she always thought it might come to this. That after everything that had happened with Will, he would not want to be with her. That she had caused him too much pain to the point of no return. That this was something that they just couldn't move past. And she was right. Even so, it hurt more than she could even begin to describe.

"It's just . . . " Her eyes snap up as Fitz continues, bringing her sharply out of her reverie. He's looking away from her, unable to meet her gaze. "I think you should be with someone who's not gonna cause you pain. Like I do, I mean."

Confusion stabs through her.  _What's he talking about?_

"Fitz, you're not making any sense."

"You should be with someone who's not gonna remind you of . . . of  _him_ ," he spits out, his voice thick with pain.

"Oh Fitz," Jemma whispers, feeling the warm prickle of incoming tears behind her eyes.

"I killed him, Jemma," he says, his voice breaking, and she can see tears brimming behind his eyes as well. "I killed him, and it's my fault we weren't able to bring him back at all. If I hadn't shot him with that flare gun . . . maybe there's something we . . . something I could have done."

"Fitz," Jemma cuts in, hearing her voice tremble around his name, "I don't think there's anything either of us could have done." And for the first time, she truly believes what she's saying. It's not an empty phrase that she tells herself again and again that she tries to make herself believe. She knows, deep in her bones, that this is an irrefutable truth. That this is not her fault, nor is it Fitz's.

So what are they blaming themselves for?

Without thinking about it, without hesitating this time, she reaches for him, caressing the side of his face and gently brushing at the wetness of tears there. He leans slightly into her touch, eyes briefly fluttering closed. "Whatever that monster was, it wasn't Will.

"It  _wasn't,_ " she insists as he begins to shake his head slightly against his outstretched hand. "I think the Will I knew was long gone before you even got to him. And I'm sure that he would have been more than happy to know that you destroyed that thing possessing his body."

Fitz exhales gently. "You don't blame me then, for all that's happened?"

" _Blame_ you?" Jemma chokes out, "no Fitz, of course not. Not nearly as much as I blame myself, anyway." Now it's Fitz's turn to look shocked.

"Jemma-"

"Fitz, please." She impulsively moves her hand to lightly touch his mouth with the pads of her fingers, with the intention of quieting him. But as she does so, she feels her face coloring slightly as her fingers brush against the softness of his lips, feeling them part slightly under her touch.

"Please, just let me explain," she murmurs, unable to look anywhere but at the blue eyes right in front of her. There are only inches between them, now. For a moment she thinks about how easy it would be to claim his mouth with hers, to lose herself in him entirely. But she needs to get what she has to say off of her chest, before she loses the words and the courage to say them altogether. Slowly, she reluctantly moves her hands away from his face, lowering them to rest at her sides. She doesn't move away, though.

"I've only just come to terms with the fact that what happened to me on the planet, what happened to Will, was completely beyond my control. But I don't think I will  _ever_ be able to accept that all that's happened to you is anyone's fault but my own." His eyebrows pull together in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I've hurt you," she clarifies, feeling tears beginning to trickle down her face, "so much. If I hadn't been sucked through that portal, if I'd waited just a damn bit longer and hadn't given up on you, then maybe things wouldn't be so mucked up between us right now.

"I've hurt you so much, Fitz. I know that," she whispers brokenly, "and I want to fix that. I really do. I want to be with you. I want a future for us. But if that's too painful for you now, if I've put you through too much, I understand. I just hope that someday you can forgive me for all that I've done to you."

He's staring at her, wide-eyed and incredulous. "Are you finished?" he whispers, an almost steely resolve forming behind his eyes.

She nods slightly.

He swiftly closes the gap between them, pressing his mouth gently against hers. One hand moves to cup her face, while the other slowly weaves its way through her hair. The last time he'd kissed her it had been all anger and desperation, his mouth hard against hers as he'd grabbed her and backed her into a lab bench, kissing her like it was the last time. That kiss had been a goodbye. This kiss feels like a promise. A reassurance.

She responds immediately, her hands moving to his waist and pulling them closer together. He gasps at the sudden and new contact, his mouth opening and deepening the kiss. His lips are indescribably soft,and she just wants to drink him in, melt into him, press him back into the wall and kiss him again and again and again until they both run out of air. Before she can follow through on that train of thought Fitz breaks away, every bit as breathless as she is.

"Let me make one thing very clear," he whispers softly trailing his fingers alone her jawline and making her shiver, "there is nothing,  _nothing_ that would make me happier than being with you, Jemma. Yes, those past few months hurt. More than I can even begin to describe. But if I get to be happy with you, then maybe it's worth it. I'm absolutely more than willing to give this a go if you are."

Jemma smiles, pressing a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Most definitely." And with that, she pulls him in and they don't speak again for a very long time.

There will be time later for Jemma to fully explain everything. There will be time for her to tell Fitz about why she left him after the accident, time for her to fully explain her feelings for him. Time for her to tell him that he's always been more than that for her as well, but it just took her longer to realize it. That he has  _always_ been her first choice, not Will.

For now though, Jemma loses herself in the kiss, smiling against Fitz's mouth and reveling in how new and familiar it all feels at once. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knows that this is not the end of their problems. But she also knows that from here on out, whatever comes their way, they will find a way to move forward. Together.

And that is more than she could ever ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic that I wrote for the FitzSimmons Secret Valentine Exchange for Traviosita9124, last month. However, because I didn't have an account here at the time and just ended up posting it on Tumblr, I decided to belatedly post it here as well!  
> 


End file.
